Golf for the laughs

Golf is a game, and games were meant to be fun. That’s why every now and then we should forget about the rules and to some extent even the etiquette and just do it for the hell of it.

I like a game called Hooligans, for example. A Hooligan is the opposite of a Mulligan. Each player gets to require another player, once on each nine, to replay a shot. It’s a mandatory Mulligan. There’s no more evil pleasure than telling your opponent he has to re-putt that lucky 40 foot slider he just canned.

Back in the ’90s, my wife, the Amazing Max, and I used to run a tournament called the Tucker Invitational Tournament, better known by its acronym. The first one was 12 golfers, playing nine holes and returning to party in our garage with a few hastily assembled silly prizes (best bogey on the 8th by a left-hander) and quickly progressed to a much anticipated 60+ golfers playing 18 holes with well thought out and prepared individual prizes and a pig roast party.

Each year was a different theme. Year 4 was the Year of the Cow (four teats), and one player hid in the trees to the right of the first hole at Brookhaven, dressed head to toe in a Holstein costume. While she waited for the tournament to begin and make her grand entrance, a non-tournament foursome entered the woods in search of a sliced tee shot, took one look at her and continued their search, without comment.

Other themes were religious (I dressed as the Pope with a Pope hat that said “God Guy” on the back, Max was dressed as a nun – Mother Inferior) ethnic (my Scottish Cousin flew in to participate, we all wore kilts, started the tournament with a Piper and had a participant dance the Highland Fling at the post-round party) etc.

Players would bring any sort of “clubs” they wished. One brought a fishing rod with a ball hooked to the line. Once within range, he would cast the ball past the pin, then reel it into the hole — great short game. We had a “Closest to the Cups” contest on a par 3. The “cups” were a brassiere hooked onto the pin — part of the tournament culture.

The party consisted of a lot of food, drink and prizes. Everyone got an award procured and modified especially for her/him. For example one player used to cross country ski at Ballston Spa CC in the winter, so we gave her XC skis with golf spikes. All prizes were obtained throughout the preceding 12 months from garage sales, none costing more than a few bucks.

One year, we happened to be boarding two Russian gentlemen who were chaperoning exchange students in Ballston Spa. They spoke little to no English and had never seen golf before, so when we put them to work making weird changes to toilet seats and screwing spikes into galoshes, they were convinced of our total insanity. They were the hit of the party however and I wish I could have heard their stories on returning home to Russia.

Over the years, participants presented us with appropriate gifts, such as a hard hat painted pink with a nipple on top, to be used in the awards ceremonies.

Most years we had more than 80 partiers, as the players would bring their non-golfing spouses and there were participants from Canada, Scotland and many states of the Union. We always ended up with a dozen or more who were overnight guests or just shouldn’t be driving and the great room carpet served as a bed for all who needed it.

No one cared about their score — they knew they would be getting a pre-determined prize. It was all about the laughter and good cheer. After 10 years, we had to give it up, as work and the growing number of participants just became too much, but retirement has got us thinking about starting it again on a more modest level. The memories of all the carefree fun, just playing a game for the hell of it, are just too good to let it die.

William Tucker

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